


No Guts, No Glory

by kalymnos



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalymnos/pseuds/kalymnos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night on the town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Guts, No Glory

"I hope you appreciate how difficult this is for me right now."

"W-what is?" Brock stammered, head slamming back against the hotel door behind him.

Cindy pulled her mouth away from Brock's neck with a loud smack. "Having sex with you," she panted.

Brock just wanted her mouth back there and her hand on his crotch to never, ever stop squeezing. "Uh, okay?"

"Believe me, kid," she continued, marching him across the room. "Making out with the teenage-version of my TV boyfriend? It's giving me the heebie jeebies. I'm experiencing major internal conflict right now." She shoved him hard, and he sprawled, legs flying, back onto the bed.

"Right. Sorry?" Brock tried to follow the thread of conversation, but he was kind of drunk, and Cindy had begun hopping around, yelping in pain as she rammed her toe trying to get out of her jeans. It would have been hilarious at any other point, but Brock was so pathetically turned on and stunned silent at the increasing likelihood that he was about to get with the woman of his recent dreams, that he could do nothing but stare, transfixed.

Cindy, however, was bent over cackling. "You should be sorry," she said, straightening to stick her hands on her hips, her eyes dancing. Black lingerie hugged her curves, and she looked so sexy and happy and confident Brock had parallel urges to both run away in terror and propose immediately. 

"Here I was doing you a favour," she stalked forward, swinging up her legs to straddle his lap. "Agreeing to take you around, show you the sights. Took you to my favourite bar -- you better fucking treasure that like it's a state secret," she warned.

They both groaned as she settled her hips to rest flush against his. "And then you had to go and get all touchy-feely -- dancing right up against me, puttin' your arms around me." She began to move her pelvis in firm, rhythmic rocking motions, and he would not, _would not_ come in his jeans like the seventeen-year-old fictional character she was convinced he was. She made it difficult, though, as she leaned down to whisper huskily in his ear, liquor-sweet breath gusting over his face: "And not only that, you had to go around being so fucking _filthy_ gorgeous all the time."

Brock whimpered.

"So," she pulled back suddenly, expectant. "What do you have to say for yourself? Bearing in mind how you being, like, nineteen, severely squicks me out. And yet I find myself involuntarily attracted to you anyway." 

Trying not to gape, Brock swallowed. "I'm, uh, twenty-five?"

"Yeah, right. Nice try, buddy. We both know TV actors are closer to their on-screen age than their chronological age."

Brock tried not to look thoroughly confused and out of his depth. His bravado and swagger from earlier in the night had completely deserted him. He began to panic, suddenly questioning whether tonight was going to actually happen. Whether he was going to come this far with Cindy Sampson, and then like a kid with Christmas taken away, be told _this far and no further_. He tried not to cry. "Um, I'm not sure –"

Cindy burst out laughing, her eyes crinkling. "Just messing with you, honey." 

She leaned in and kissed him, long and dirty and deep. "Now, chop chop – pants off. First we're gonna sixty-nine, then you're gonna do me from behind. At least for the first time. I don't need reminding I'm getting screwed by an adolescent."

Brock reared back, alarmed.

"Kidding!" She added, patted him on the cheek. She then climbed back onto the bed, settled her crotch over his face and swallowed his dick down smoothly. 

To his credit, Brock held out for at least thirty seconds. As he came in her mouth, she rolled her eyes good-naturedly at his lack of stamina, and he thought with not a little bit of regret, _I hope she doesn't laugh when I propose._


End file.
